After the Dawn (25 page)

“Carson is going to take the checkered flag tomorrow, and when he does, Collins Industry will have so many orders they'll have to have a second shift.”

“Thanks to you.”

His brows bunched. She still sounded sad. Setting her away from him, he lifted her chin. Was she scared she couldn't handle things by herself? “I won't leave until you feel comfortable in running the company by yourself.”

She straightened. “That's very nice of you. Good night.”

The door closed in his face. No woman had ever called him nice or closed the door in his face when he was stiff from wanting her. His jaw tight, he headed for the elevator. Sam better learn fast or he was going to be taking a lot of cold showers.

*   *   *

Samantha and Dillon were at the track by eight Sunday morning. The stands were already filling up. Even the little space left for motor coaches was filled. Many were elaborate, with a TV built into the side of the vehicle. Some even had chairs on top to give a better view of the race. The tempting aromas of grilled food wafted through the air.

During breakfast, Samantha had been too nervous to do more than pick at her food. If Carson didn't finish in the top five with all the buzz circulating around the track about the intercooler, she knew that the intercooler would be blamed.

“Carson is as competitive as they come. He doesn't like looking at bumpers.”

Samantha thought she was hiding her fear well. Hands deep in the pockets of her slacks, she watched the cars slowly circle the twelve-turn 2.5-mile track. “I want it for Carson, too. He and his family have a lot at stake as well.”

“That we do.”

Samantha turned to see a handsome older couple. The man was lean, with a devilish smile identical to Carson's. The beautiful olive-hued woman by his side barely came to the middle of his chest. Although they were in casual dress, their clothes obviously had designer labels.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rowland,” Dillon greeted them with a wide grin. After shaking the man's hand, he hugged the woman. “I was beginning to think you wouldn't get here for the start of the race.”

“Carson would have never forgiven either of us,” Mrs. Rowland said. “I've never seen him this excited about a race. He plans on taking the checkered flag today. I wouldn't like to see him disappointed.”

Samantha felt a moment of dread.

“We both know race days are unpredictable. A lot can happen between now and the end of the race.” Dillon's gaze was as direct as Mr. Rowland's. “The intercooler will give Carson an edge, but whether he'll cross the finish line in front of the thirteen cars in the race today will depend on his driving and a lot of other factors.”

“That's why I admire you, Dillon. You never blow smoke.” Mr. Rowland turned to Samantha. “You must be Samantha Collins. Forgive my bad manners for not introducing ourselves sooner. This is my wife, Tess.”

“I was getting around to it,” Dillon interjected.

“Nathan hardly gave you time.” Tess laughed and accepted Samantha's hand, then hugged her. “Hello, Ms. Collins. Please call me Tess.”

“Please call me Samantha.” Next she spoke to Mr. Rowland. “Sir, I realize the amount of faith you placed in Dillon, and his design of the Collins intercooler. I've learned in my short association with Dillon that he likes to win and he's proud of his friendship with your family. He wouldn't jeopardize either.”

Mr. Rowland glanced at Dillon. “You have yourself a smart partner.”

“It seems,” Dillon said slowly.

“The pace car is pulling off. The race is about to start,” Tess said. “When it's over, let's hope and pray Carson is still leading the pack.”

*   *   *

To call the race nail-biting would be an understatement. The course tested the skill of the driver and the performance of the car. Carson lost the lead by the fifth turn. Without thinking, Samantha reached for Dillon's hand. By the seventh, he had dropped to third.

“Come on, Carson. Push it!” His mother was on her feet. “Take back that lead!”

“Come on, son!”

A parent's love. It was more than a race to the Rowlands; they were pulling for their son. Samantha felt the huge responsibility on her shoulders. She wasn't sure she could look them in the eye if Carson finished out of the top five.

“He's making his move,” Dillon said.

“Rowland managed to move back to third, now second position, and is pushing hard to regain the lead,” the announcer said. “Franklin, who won already this year, is not about to give it up lightly.”

“He won't have to give it up, Carson will take it,” Dillon said.

Carson did just that by the eleventh turn. Samantha's heart was beating so hard in her chest that she felt light-headed. “You can do it, Carson!” she screamed.

“Rowland is pulling up fast,” the announcer said. “This is going to come down to the wire. Both cars are going all out.”

“Come on, son!” Mr. Rowland screamed.

“Take it, Carson!” Dillon shouted.

“Here they come. Here they come. They're almost front bumper to front bumper. The flagman is out. It's Rowland by a half-car length!”

“Carson won! We did it!” Sam shouted.

“You doubted?” Dillon said, then laughed, swinging Samantha around and lowering his head to take her mouth. He told himself he intended the kiss to be congratulatory and brief. He lied. The moment their lips touched, his body caught fire, and he remembered the intoxicating taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. He wanted more.

“Carson is putting the car into a victory spin,” said Tess with a laugh. “He's been waiting a long time to do that.”

Nathan slapped Dillon on the back. “Thanks to you, he got the opportunity. You did it. Come on, let's go down and congratulate Carson.”

Dillon reluctantly lifted his head and barely kept from snarling. Later, he promised himself, he was going to have that kiss without any interruptions. He caught Sam's hand, felt it tremble. She was just as affected as he was. Her talk of just business between them was just that, talk.

They passed Mark on their way out of the stands. The other man wasn't happy. Tough. Dillon had no intention of giving the reporter a chance to become involved with Sam again. He'd had his chance and failed. After their kiss, Dillon decided he had no intention of doing the same.

*   *   *

The celebration of Carson's win moved from the racetrack to his parents' spacious suite at the Bellagio. By nine that night, the party showed no sign of winding down. Along with a scrumptious buffet, couples were dancing and everyone was having a good time.

Since their flight back to Dallas wasn't until early the next morning, Samantha was enjoying her second glass of wine. At least, as much as she could with Mark glaring at her. He'd attached himself to her shortly after he'd spoken with Carson and his father.

“I thought there was nothing between you two. You kissed him.”

At his accusatory tone, she took another sip of wine. Technically Dillon had kissed her, and what a kiss it was. The memory still heated her body. Telling Mark it was none of his business would only make him grumpier. She couldn't very well tell him the kiss meant nothing, since she could still taste Dillon and wanted to taste him again. She settled on the truth. “I'm not sure what's going on between us.”

“Montgomery has a bad reputation with the ladies.”

“Yes, he does.” That didn't seem to stop her from wanting Dillon. Seeing him coming toward her, the easy grace, her body tingled in anticipation.

“Excuse me, but I think this dance is mine.” In typical high-handed fashion, Dillon took the glass from her hand, gave it to a passing waiter, then pulled her into his arms.

Samantha didn't even think of protesting. She was tired of fighting her attraction to him. She decided to enjoy the thump of her heart, the tingling of her skin. The music was slow and soft, Dillon's body hard and muscled, his steps smooth. It was the perfect combination to make any woman forget consequences and just enjoy.

“Enjoying yourself?”

How could she not, in his arms? “Yes.”

Lifting his dark head, he stared down at her, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “Then why so quiet? You should be shouting from the rooftops.”

Collins would win, but she would lose the man she loved. “Just thinking.”

“Hmmm.” He pulled her back closer against his enticing length. “Maybe you think too much.”

Samantha didn't respond. She knew what he meant—her wanting a business-only relationship. Yet in his arms, all she could think of was getting closer.

The music ended. Dillon was as reluctant to release her as she was to move back.

“You wanna say our good-byes and get out of here?”

Staring up at him, she knew that wasn't all he was asking. “Yes.”

Taking her hand, they wound their way through the crowd to find Carson surrounded by three beautiful women. “We have an early flight, so we're cutting out now.”

To his credit, Carson didn't roll his eyes at the flimsy excuse to leave. He stuck out his hand to shake Dillon's, then gave him a hearty one-arm hug. “Thanks, man. As soon as you get another intercooler, we want it on the backup car.”

“You got it.” Dillon glanced at Samantha. “I haven't discussed it with my partner yet, but I'm also thinking of some modifications for the turbochargers we make to fit high-performance cars.”

“This partner says when can we get started,” Samantha said. The modifications would take time. She felt like doing a jig. Dillon wasn't leaving anytime soon.

“If you don't let Rowland have it first, we're gonna have a problem,” Carson said.

Dillon grinned, ignoring Carson's hard frown. “Since you asked so nicely, you got it,” he said.

Carson laughed and held out his hand to Sam. “Thanks, Samantha. I'd hug you, but I have plans for tonight and I need to be healthy.”

Samantha accepted the brief handshake. She didn't dare look at Dillon. He'd become annoyingly possessive since Mark's arrival.

“We should be thanking Rowland for taking a chance on us. When the new turbo is developed, you'll be the first to hear from us,” Dillon said.

“Thanks, and just so you know, in every interview I've mentioned Dillon's design of the intercooler and Collins Industry.” Carson glanced between her and Dillon. “Today has been one of my best to date. I can't thank you enough.”

“Putting Collins Industry out there is enough.” Dillon grinned. “Roman will get a kick out of me telling him about your spin after winning.”

Carson chuckled. “That he will. Mom says he's getting back late from Elms Fork. You must be working him hard.”

Samantha shot a look at Dillon.

“It keeps him out of trouble,” Dillon replied.

“Yeah, because when he finishes he'll be off someplace to relax and find a beautiful woman to pass the time.” Carson looked thoughtful. “I hope when I reach sixty, I still have as much juice as he does.”

“Yes,” Dillon said thoughtfully, his brows bunched.

Samantha knew he was thinking of what his mother and Roman might be doing. He'd called her after Carson's win. From what she'd heard, Roman was with Marlene.

“We'll say good-bye to your parents. Bye.” Samantha tugged Dillon away. Lines formed in his forehead. “Your mother is a grown, sensible woman.”

Dillon grunted. “Even sensible women can be seduced.”

Since Samantha considered herself sensible, and she knew where the night was leading, she didn't say anything as they made their way to Carson's parents. This time Dillon's good-byes were quick. He pulled out his cell phone as soon as the hotel door closed.

Samantha grabbed it. “Leave your mother alone.”

“I don't want him to take advantage of her.” He reached for the phone.

Samantha put the cell phone behind her. “If you didn't trust Roman, he wouldn't be your friend or work for you.”

“He's a man.”

“Yes, and your mother likes him. He likes her. So back off.”

His eyes closed. “I hear what you're saying, but…”

“You need to get your mind on something else,” she said.

His eyes snapped open. Unabashed naked hunger stared back at her.

Her breathing changed. “I was thinking of hitting the slot machines or gaming tables downstairs.”

“I have a better idea.” Catching her hand, they headed down the hall to her room.

 

Fourteen

Samantha could have protested, reminded him she was a sensible woman, but she pulled the key from her small purse and opened her door. She was barely over the threshold before the door slammed shut and she was in Dillon's arms, his mouth ravishing hers. She returned the compliment. It was as if her body had waited a lifetime for this moment.

She arched against him, wanting more, needing more. He gave it to her with his greedy mouth and knowing hands. Her whimpers and moans drove him on. Clothes were cast aside in heated urgency until she was beneath him.

Fierce dark eyes stared into hers as she lay beneath him. “I promised myself I'd make a feast of you, and I plan to do just that.”

True to his word, his lips nibbled and licked their way down and over her body, each touch branding her as his. She'd never wanted this way, hadn't known desire could leave her aching and trembling with need.

She wanted to run her tongue over the corded muscles of his chest, take his nipple in his mouth as he had hers now. The thought had no more formed than she was pushing him away to feast on him. Hearing his guttural moan of pleasure drove her on. She cupped him, ran her hand up and down the hard length of him. He was perfect in every way.

She was killing him, and he was enjoying every second. He was caught between the pleasure of her lips and hands on him and wanting his on her. He couldn't wait any longer.